


The Second

by gummylick



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, I like happy endings., Some Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25211548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gummylick/pseuds/gummylick
Summary: Post S3 finale (Cain/Chloe finds out).  He retreats back to Lux. As the host of Heaven force their way into his house, Lucifer is forced to find the truth behind his Father's plans.  For him? For the Detective?
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, God & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 232





	1. Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> After S3 finale. Chloe now knows and what's to become of them? Of him? What's to become of angel who's broken God's first rule - do not kill a human.
> 
> \- authors note: first fanfic, trying to adjust style, no beta. open to any criticism. i have 10 chapters planned for this particular fic.

On his balcony, the dusk of Los Angeles blurred, smoked and hummed. The smog lifted, swirling over the top of the city, like the smoke of a smelted votive candle. A wish, a novela, a silent promise. 

His face tickled, deep scars danced with each drag of cigarette as he closed his eyes and let the tufts of smoke caress out the memory of the past hour.

"It's all true. It's all true." Her face sweltering a heat in him the Devil could not bear.

His only hope had finally burnt out.

***

He should go back.

The cigarette fell from his fingers and he watched it fight to stay lit. 

He grimaced with sympathy as it curled, singed, and twitched before it suddenly became alive. A new wind feeding the fire. He felt it, too.

"Michael." 

Still not turning, he watched as the cigarette became an actor, a false conductor, jerking and jumping each time it filled with a new whirl of air. Two, three, four times… 

The host of heaven were upon him.

"Is it Thanksgiving already?" He turned slowly as voice rose high . He dug his hands in deep in pockets and still with emblazed face, grinned a pleased smile. "I see you've already plucked the turkey." His eyes fixed on Amenadiel. It was fit they should see him like this, the monster they made him be.

He knew what they were here for. His punishment was already dealt, why bother with the formalities. He'd killed a human. God's lovely toys that'd been placed beneath, that they'd been forced to love and the ultimate cause of his utter grand fall. The only reason his family ever granted such attention to him.

Whatever his father had set for tonight, he was in no mood for. 

Azreal stepped through the crowd of brothers, grabbing the lapel of his suit and dipped her head with a soft, "Lu." Her other hand fell upon his shoulder, fingers dipping behind his back to the crest of his shoulder blade. "It's not like that." 

***

Michael had his left wrist and Gabriel at his right before he nor Azreal could realize what was happening.

The pull, straining his already cut bicep, his aching shoulders taut with the weight of pain, blood, broken bones and now the punishment he was definitely owed for killing a human.

He deserved it. For all the hurt he'd caused everyone and most of all, Chloe. He let himself be taken, two, three steps, inside from the balcony doors as Azreal and Amenadiel rushed back with pillows to put before him on the floor. Michael and Gabriel pushed behind his knees, forcing him to kneel and then he just couldn't. 

He was being forced to kneel and the devil takes but is not taken. He couldn't let Michael have the satisfaction. Not Michael. 

The strings of his piano popped from high to low in random order, causing a horrid dissonance, only relieved by the popping of light bulbs. There was no need for smoke or ashes, it was as if light itself fled at his command - and not just things of light, but all that brings light.

"He who bringeth, taketh away." He chuckled. The smog of the city became thicker, indiscernible from shadows lifting from every crevice of his immaculate, black marble floor. A map to their King. They wisped and scattered along their feet, crawled up their legs like fire ants, hungry, full of intention and want.

The grandest of God's angels jumped and skipped like a school girls seeing a mouse. The shadows licked. They danced. They grabbed. Amenadiel shot an eye at Lucifer, pleading, trying to understand his pain.

"WE CALL FORTH!". Michael yelled, not out of strength, but fear. Still, he held strong. Younger angels appeared and lined the bar. The balcony. The elevator to bedroom doors. There was no exit.

If he should be damned twice over, he was glad to have a bigger audience. Lucifer smirked. He let his body go limp, what did it even matter now? She knew.

"On his stomach, quickly." Raphael ordered. Not Raphie. Not sweet Raphie? Lucifer spent so much of his youth as his voluntary lab rat. A bit of ichor here, a pinch there and in return, Raphie always curing him of his most recent endeavors: "Too much time with the dinosaurs again, Samael?" 

Of course, his brother took liberties and would look at every aspect of the cut, every layer of skin, comparing it to his notes. Only Lucifer would oblige his every curiosity, withstand the pain, silently knowing he'd need his help again. 

***

Finally prone, his frontside separated from the floor only by the pillows Azrael and Amenadiel laid down, Lucifer turned his head sideways, gasping for air. Immediately, his eyes blurred as a finger was stuffed up his nose.

He instantly knew. Raphie.

If Chloe ever accused The Devil of inconsideration of personal boundaries, she never met Raphael. 

Raphael was only concerned with healing and building the perfect concoction for this healing. How he delivered it was not a concern. Anatomy was like appliance to him: push a button, twist a dial, insert coins there and success! Lucifer obliged it for so long, he was hardly surprised at the finger. If it wasn't that orifice, he knew Raphie's other options and Raph wasn't afraid to use them.

So, the most beautiful of the Archangels, the Prince of Darkness, the Ruler of Hell had to suffer his brother quite literally picking his nose. A calming rush of narcotics swept his head, dizzying him.

The heavenly host watching, Amenadiel knelt before his brother. Swallowing what felt like an act of betrayal, he put all his force and will upon his brother's shoulders.

Lucifer released a feral growl, notwithstanding the humiliation.

Raphael prayed that what he had given him was enough to subdue him.

***

The clouded daze that filled him made every sensation welcoming, every touch warm, every breath calming. Like Oxy and Molly had a baby. 

"Raphie filled me with Moxie!" He giggled.

"Moxie" was releasing a calm over his shoulders and seeping into his much bedraggled wings. They itched behind the joint of his shoulder, the ache now dulling slightly before he felt the pressure.

With Gabriel and Michael now securing his wrists, Amenadiel pinning his shoulders, Raphael gently, but very sternly pushed from the curve of his back upward, pinching the roll of muscles between his thumb and fingers as he went up. As he approached the shoulders, his grip strengthened as he bore all his weight down on his palms.

Lucifer stirred out of his Moxi-induced daze only in time to shout out a cut-off, "No!" His head lifted as he struggled to bring his knees to his stomach and rise. The rest of the smaller angels held his ankles, forcing his legs straight as the plume of white and red bloodied feathers freed from their coffins. Lucifer's wings flared, shattered and torn from the storm of bullets he'd endured at the hands of Cain's men.

"Now, Raphael, now!!" Michael shouted, his voice dropping an octave to shake the look of awe that had come upon the room. "Place it now!"

*** 

Raphael opened a small golden box, two thread-like, golden chains held within. He pinched one, his hand shaking as he lifted it, it shimmering with the power of the divine. He placed it on the highest point at which Lucifer's right wing protruded. The chain reached out on its own accord for the spot, determined to meet its purpose and on its joining, the wing shook as bullets popped out, his wounds healing. Lucifer screamed, each bullet sent a strike of pain followed by a soothing sensation, but each occurred much too rapidly after another for him to gain any relief.

Snake like, the chain began to make its way down the spot where Lucifer's scars laid less than a year ago. The wing, healing and collapsing simultaneously, slid slowly into his hiding spot all the while Lucifer writhed in pain beneath. A divine stitching of sorts, a thin gold line barely noticeable on his ivory skin, extended down the right side of Lucifer's back, random swirls decorated what might be stitches. Once done, Raphie granted his brother a few large heaves of air and deciding it was better to get this over with, placed the 2nd chain.

Complete, Lucifer stared blankly forward. Feet, floor, pillows, pain. Anything to avoid the one thought scraping in the back of his mind: "she now knows. She knows." His mind began to tumble.

Raphael stuffed another finger up his nostril and he was out.


	2. The Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is brought to the Silver City, but he's not quite sure where or why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hurt/whump as we catch up from Lucifer's past to present. His story until now just wasn't that pretty.

_They were driving down the coastline in Lucifer's corvette, "It has more gas, Detective. We must get there in haste! You wouldn't want to be thwarted with a roadside mishap, would you?" Chloe reluctantly agreed with the caveat that she drives. They didn't need to be pulled over, either._

_It had been a quick case, but satisfying as they've now pinned their prime suspect, but had to hurry to arrest him for interrogation before he caught wind. Chloe had filled Dan in but ever overly cautious, he'd phoned back just 5 minutes into their 45 minute, beautiful golden, sunset drive._

_Lucifer watched his sun, passionate, warm and free as it began to slowly dip beneath the blanket of the sea and those few seconds were all he lasted._

_He turned on the radio, raised the volume and began to scan channels, the hum and static making it impossible for her to hear. She smacked his hand and punched the radio button off._

_Not the be dissuaded, Lucifer waited 30 seconds and turned it back on again, her hand constantly smacking his and he still pushing "scan" as he grinned for approval from her, nodding at his favorite music choices for a "yes"._

_He popped scan again and found it. Her chin lifted and head turned, recognizing a favorite dance jam. He raised his arms and did a very strange, car-confined version of the running man. Chloe glanced to the side, Lucifer threw more shoulder into it and she choked on a laugh._

_"I… I have to go, Dan. I'll (cough) text you later."_

***

The haze started to lend back and Lucifer rolled his head, right and left, not knowing where he was. Then, he saw them. His first creations. Three, tiny, barely-there stars. A little more than energetic stardust, really. Each hovered together like a small, tight, clouds of fireflies. They bounced like children whispering, giggling to each other before a game of tag. He blinked and softly let himself smile at them. He used to keep them in his quarters, lighting his entrance. They were not there, now.

He limbs sunk into soft leather, the back of his head still resting on the sofa as he continued to survey the room. One wall appeared almost glasslike, one he came to know on Earth during The Detective's interrogations: a one way mirror. It looked down below and from afar, he could see the upper reaches of an arena. Circular, stone, not much different from the Roman Colosseum. It is where the host of Heaven gathered to discuss, celebrate. Punish.

The room, itself, was decked out with looked like plush, red leather sofas, only that its confines were molded from smooth marble. Tapestry clung by gold grommets to every bit of the luxurious furniture that lifted from the smooth, white rock. Coffee tables were strewn about, glass set off rock by small gold balls to act as its table top. Upon the glass lay food and drinks, of all varieties.

Lucifer remembered this room, but from below. It was there he last remembered Heaven, looking up at the odd "glass box".

"I'm sorry I removed them from your quarters." He heard from behind him. Lucifer's spine immediately stiffened, his head barely turning as it struggled to balance between his shoulders. Near the door was his father in true form, or lack thereof. A gaseous presence, looming, formless and moving toward him, Lucifer's three little stars followed close behind. Lucifer tried to look up, defiant, but could only flicker his eyelids downward, protecting his eyes. "Apologies, again," and his father began to take shape. 

When Lucifer lifted his eyelids, he saw Morgan Freeman. White suit and grey-black hair illuminated with bits of white. God adjusted his gold cufflinks, took posture and softly batted the tiny stars away. Lucifer snorted, quickly thinking, "is he mocking me?" before his stomach pushed forward something more dark. 

Before he could stop himself, he had his father on the floor beneath him, pummeling him. His fists crashed like the waves of that California drive, relentless. His stomach burned like his sun, passionate. The rage fuming from him was steady and constant like both. His eyesight and aim were still not quite right, but it didn't matter as long as he made contact with "Morgan Freeman". Blood trickled out his nose and large gashes appeared under one eye and over another, but God did not fight back. Incensed, Lucifer blinked quickly and hellfire consumed the color of his eyes. His body shifted, scars lifting on his now naked torso. He couldn't summon the darkness here, but he could make his dad bear witness. He looked down at himself, then wrapped his hand around his father's neck. He lifted him to the nearest wall with one hand, pinning him against the marble, talons in the soft notches of his throat. 

"Look!" he screeched, his stars quickly aligned themselves behind him, "Look at what you DID TO ME!" Always dramatic, he summoned his Devil wings to engulf them both. He wanted to show his father all that he made him become, but as his wings rose, his back lit aflame. The pain made his stomach turn and twist in ways he thought impossible and he had to loosen his grip on his father to steady himself, doing everything possible not to fall before Morgan Freeman on his knees.

The pain didn't last long, his father reaching out and securing him in an embrace as he walked him back to the sofa. Lucifer tried to refute but succumbed as the nausea subsided. "You mustn't do that son, they are still healing. They are not strong enough to withstand the binding." His father rubbed his back, soothing the pain wracking his absolute being to its core. "Would you like Raphael back for more, what is it you called it? 'Moxie'?" He chuckled at both his sons' ingenuity.

Lucifer looked at his father, wide-eyed, pushing himself away in what he hoped wasn't panic. Binding? What did he mean by that? 

God, sensing his 'not panic' quickly slid away to the opposite side of sofa and quietly half lifted to sit on the sofa opposite of Lucifer, leaving the coffee tables between them.

"This is NOT a punishment, if that's what you think Sam... Lucifer." He cleared his throat. "I believe that's what you like to be called now." The soothing effect on Lucifer still had him calm and God only had a few moments. "It was me," he quickly muttered. "God Johnson. It was me. Well, at least part of me. I figured you'd never hear me out to begin with and I was selfish. I took the smallest opportunity I had to speak with you."

God quickly ran through Lucifer's thoughts, "and the binding, your wings. Part of it was to get you here, though I see Michael might have been a bit over-zealous." God paused and softly blinked. The corner of Lucifer's mouth curled. He knew that blink. Somewhere, someway, Michael was getting a God-version of a spanking. "I know you are angry at me, but I beseech you to listen to my explanation. The binding will protect those you love." God smiled recalling his son's fondness for these particular beings. "Your detective, the good doctor, the urchin, Mazikeen of the Lilim and maybe even, the douche."

"Well, we don't have to go that far." Lucifer retorted and he shifted uncomfortably, his wings slowly calming to a dull pain.

***

Lucifer and God silently stared at each other as the final moments of soothing peeled back.

"Too cheap to get the good stuff, Father?" Lucifer eyed the two coffee tables before him. The one to the right was lined with crudités, a large bowl of hummus taking center with one smaller dip on each side. Despite the, quite literally, heavenly roots that these veggies no doubt came from, he still thought the platter he made when married to Cain looked far better. 

The other coffee table had shelves carved into the marble beneath the glass. The bottom shelf for wine glasses, the middle highball, and the top lowball, each with a sigil with what appeared for each of the archangels. Oddly, his was among them. Macallan 62, it's glass embossed with its own type of sigil, appears on table as he reaches for a tumbler. Lucifer stifled a chuckle, he knew that would get him.

God retrieved a glass himself and poured himself a heavy share. 

"Well, hurry on then. What now?" He eyed the arena through the glass wall, "going for an encore performance? I wouldn't recommend it, the sequel is rarely better than the original, trust me."

"No, son, this has nothing to do with Cain. He was a problem and you took care of it the best you could, you being here is just an unfortunate coincidence of timing.

And before you ask - it has nothing to do with your mother, as well. I say again, I did not bring you here for punishment."

Lucifer took an especially long sip from his glass, swirled it with his tongue behind his teeth and clenched jaw, growing more and more impatient.

God slowly rose, taking his glass with him and looking down upon the arena where he once painfully watched the son with him now. 

Oh how his son suffered, and for only being exactly what his own father created him to be. All so this moment alone could happen. 

Omniscience wasn't always pleasant, especially when it involved your most favorite creation.

**

_Hands shackled and body beaten through battle, Michael dragged Lucifer through the sands, his generals and lower ranks mobbed behind them, intent on getting a kick, a jab with their sword, something to mark the vile creature. Michael used the excess of chain to bind his brother around the chest and let him loose, writhing on the floor in the middle of the arena._

_"Repent!" Michael shouted, his voice strong, commanding._

_Lucifer continued to squirm, attempting to get his feet beneath him. Defiant, he shook his head to release the sand caked to his face. His breath, dry from shouts of war, of pain, croaked, "I will NOT!"_

_From above, God watched as he willed a hole, a darkness, to tear at the floor beneath them. The mob quickly backstepped - scattering flies trying to crawl out from the center of the web where it was clear who was the catch and, God above, the spider._

_"Repent," Michael pleaded this time, his eyes steely in their resolve to fight back tears, his lips tightly pressed together, "repent."_

_Lucifer finally stood, hunched forward with the weight of the chains on his upper body. He lifted his brow, his eyes and panted, "I have nothing to repent for."_

_Michael lifted his sword and stabbed him on his right flank, sending Lucifer backward into the tear, the fear in his eyes fixed on his father above as he fell._

***

"There's a new celestial presence, not of my making." God finally responded, "I've brought you here to make you an offer."


	3. In Need of Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God reveals more about his "offer" and why.

"I'd like to offer you a blessing, son."

The cuts on God's face had completely healed by the time he turned away from the glass to look at his son. He walked back toward his seat, slowly picking through the broccoli, carefully choosing his stalk of celery and lazily running it through the hummus. Calm, nonchalant. 

Lucifer's eyes jetted across the room, bewildered. His wings rolled within his back at the mere memory of his creation. The feeling of divine warmth being poured into what is now his shape, his being, filling him with existence. It was not unlike the warmth he felt inside when Chloe kissed him, her hand upon his cheek, assuring him he was not what he proved himself to be just hours later.

Blessings were usually only gifted at birth to angels. Burdens disguised as gifts, like his talent for desire and Amenadiel's ability to slow down time. Each blessing came with a responsibility, a manipulation dad used to make his little soldiers do his bidding.

As if the thought of that manipulation weren't enough, his mind was overcome with the sounds of screaming. The screams of souls being tortured, the screams of demons being eaten alive and the distant screaming from the darkness that he'd yet to discover in Hell upon his falling. In hell, he encountered his first "unknown" presences and he wasn't keen on discovering more, now.

His father repeated his hummus ritual, choosing a carrot this time. A pluck, a dunk, a swoosh and bite. Methodic and calm. Too calm. 

"You need my help." The realization hit him as he watched his father eat. The pillock is never that quiet when he "offers" something. The insufferable git liked to make his demands, reprimand about all the responsibilities it required and go on long winded metaphorical talks that damn near made Lucifer's ears bleed. His father's jaw paused for a very quick second before resuming his chewing. 

"That's it, isn't it!" Lucifer bolted up from his seat, shaking a finger, his wings jumping against binds, trying to free themselves. His entire body shook with pain, but he relented, "You need my help!"

"I'm prepared to make you an offer." God looked at the tray, plucking broccoli this time.

"Admit it!" Lucifer shouted as God dunked, swooshed and bit.

"The offer will change your being, your light." He mumbled, mouth full.

Lucifer, barely restrained through grit teeth, his hands now by his side as he leaned forward, emphasizing each syllable, "YOU. NEED. MY. HELP!".

God shook his head, displeased, "I could use your assistance," he rubbed his stomach, uncomfortable, "once I give you this blessing." He reached toward the Macallan and poured more into his tumbler, using it to wash away the distaste vined around his tongue, "but I will not require it of you."

Never once had God ever admitted something so severe. Nor offered something so freely.

Upon hearing his father's admission, it were as if Lucifer was suddenly standing alone, surrounded by the remains of a uncontrolled forest fire, his anger still heating the ashen floor beneath him, still lit. Embers stretched as far as his eye could see. The smoke of his long life of suffering was suffocating him. He heaved, struggling to breathe. The fire was extinguished, but it still threatened. In its destruction, all around him, laid the promise of something new and unfathomable: hope. 

He sat back down, quickly, eyes unfocused and swallowed the rest of his drink at once. With lips tightly pursed together, he breathed out, "Tell me about this presence."

***

"It likes to create." His father was now pacing, his movement fast and erratic, a far cry from his hummus ritual. "I can't sense light or darkness, benevolence or evil, only that every few moments, its being and those that surround it, are growing larger. And all those moments, everyday, are compounding to form quite a large existence." His father paused and closed his eyes. He inhaled, exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled. Then his head began to droop forward before his eyes shot open, "There! Just there! Another!"

His father sensed his own nervous energy and quickly induced a wardrobe change, from white suit to cream sweater with soft, white slacks and low cut, white, converse. He sat back down, trying to exude the essence of control again.

Lucifer huffed at the display, still nude from waist up and was just about to wish his Armani wasn't destroyed when he felt the silken material warm against his ribs. He was in a nice suit, deep blue, light blue shirt. He forgot that the Silver City worked this way.

"And," his father paused, "it can cross planes." He wiped his hands on a napkin nearby and looked his son in the eye for the first time in eons. His, dark black and shifting to amber as golden speckles of light threatened to escape along the rims of his iris. "It slipped into hell just before I asked your brothers to bring you here." His son's, a warm leather, shifting to red, flames radiating through the center.

"Oh, is that it then? Here to shove me right back to hell?" If it weren't for his new Armani, he'd let his shape shift. "Go on, then. Let's have it! No need for a meeting, this could have been email. Do your worse." Lucifer stood up, hands out, spinning slowly in his spot. 

"No, I didn't bring you here to send you to hell. I brought you here because I do not know its intentions. I brought you here to offer you a blessing."

He adjusted his cufflinks, tired of his father's charade, "Don't toy with me, father," he screamed, impatient, "you're bloody omniscient!"

"I'm only omniscient in this world, son. In the things I can and will create, but not in all things that exist." God gestured for Lucifer to take a seat. Mouth open, Lucifer unceremoniously plopped down, body heavy and mind reeling from yet another revelation by his father. "What or who this presence is and what it is doing is unknown to me. Hell will always bow to you, its King, but that is not the plane that worries me."

God rose again, walking back to the glass wall, the three balls of light bouncing between him and his son again. "You've seemed to have developed a fondness for humanity, son."

The taste of her lips just yesterday, the guffaw of her horrible flirting, the roll of her eyes each time he did something "highly inappropriate." Lucifer kept his nose over his drink, his eyes leering up at his father. He knew exactly what human he was fond of.

"Your wings." God straightened, knowing time was of importance here and began to explain. "Your wings spread divinity and have a tendency to do so without your control. For that reason, I've asked Raphael and your brothers to assist in binding them. That is, should you accept the blessing. The binds will help contain your new divinity until you've learned to control it."

Lucifer's energy raged and rolled. He hated being manipulated by his father, but he hated the thought of something unknown near The Detective. Even if she wanted to never see him again. He knew his decision was already made and so did his father.

The balls of light aligned themselves again by Lucifer. His father looked at them fondly.

"They're the only thing I allowed changed in your quarters after your departure." He sighed, seeing himself out. He stopped just before his exit and whispered, "I took them because I missed you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get back to Chloe next chapter.


	4. Insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is returned home. Chloe goes back to penthouse to get answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like mixing darkness with humor and here, you get a bit more of that as we explore the character of Raphael.

Lucifer barely registered his father's whisper before he felt it begin. Crawling from fingertips and toes up his body, a chilled air ravaged his flesh, leaving in its wake a numbness. Up to his knees, then his thighs, up to his shoulders, he laid, feeling a four-part amputee and it continued to crawl. Down his chest as it stretched to join itself across his center, he realized he couldn't feel, couldn't sense himself anymore. He was being undone. When the sense, or lack thereof, became too much, when that joining was about to happen, he felt a burst of warmth, fire.

Raphael opened the door to find his brother unconscious on the floor. His sole shout coursed through the Silver City like an earthquake. Food, drink and broken dishes lay around him as Raphael placed his bag of provisions next to him. He removed the blanket bunched over his shoulder and found a clean patch of floor to flatten it on. He returned to his brother, discarding the now shredded suit off his limbs and lifted him, placing him in center of the blanket. His body quickly sunk into the down, its existence missing its origin. It's comfort and softness provided by the down of the fledgling Lightbringer himself.

Raphael continued to remove the shreds of destroyed silks and linens off his brother, replacing them deftly with a simple loin cloth. Not that Lucifer ever cared much for modesty, but he was to return his brother to Earth, and there, his Father had warned, he must be careful.

He swaddled his brother tightly in the blanket, placed his bag over his shoulder and lifted his brother in his arms. Even unconscious and unmoving, the energy in his arms was overwhelming and he stumbled a few steps before he could gain balance.

"Right, best we be off," he righted himself and left the room empty.

***

He landed in his brother's quarters on Earth, his brow covered in sweat, and quickly placed his brother on the nearby bed, trying to relieve himself of the nuclear burden. Lucifer curled into his blanket. Its divinity innocent and untouched, soothed him.

Raphael smoothed a wet curl away from Lucifer's face, laid his hand on his cheek and closed his eyes for a long, slow breath, but he sensed no pain. Just exhaustion. Complete, utter, soul undone and remade, exhaustion. He sat at the foot of his bed and Lucifer's eyes opened just enough so that Raphael could see the change and gasp.

The red hellfire his brother had raged at them the last time Raphael was in this place was replaced with a stunning blue, each flame tinged in gold similar to his Father's. Hearing his brother, Lucifer quickly shut his eyes, pressing his lids tightly together, already guessing something had changed.

Collecting himself, Raphael gently placed his hand on his brother's foot and asked if he'd like anything, only to get a prayer form of _"for you to bugger off"_ ringing in his head.

"Right, it's best to get used to this place then? Seeing as I'll be helping you recover." Lucifer slowly rubbed his face across the blanket. "Father said it's best I attend to you as a fast recovery is best for all of us." Lucifer heard the clink of metal and the hum of his clippers coming from the bathroom. "It's best to do as dad advises." Like a doctor on the field, Raph rarely sided one way or the other, no, his presence here was much more involved than "what dad says." Unfortunately, Lucifer was in no condition to speak, much less care for himself. Raphie had him in the palm of his hand and the bloody bastard knew it. "Is this for sanitization purposes?" He heard the roll of toilet paper before he quietly drifted off to sleep.

***

It'd taken hours for her to clear the paperwork at the precinct. She explained away her partner's sudden disappearance as a sudden breakdown. "Likely ran off to his therapist," she rambled off.

It was now close to midnight as she retreated to her apartment as quickly as she could, locking each door behind her, "Not like that ever stopped him before," she thought while throwing her keys across the counter. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I not know!" She grunted as she kicked her boots off, leaning against her front door, "Some detective. Why didn't I test his blood?"

A cold front riled up outside the door behind her, winds creeping at the crack beneath her bare feet and chilling her to the bone. Her left shoulder ached as she slid her fingers beneath the collar, feeling the scar left by a bullet, staring lost into the dim lights, "Because I already knew."

Dan thankfully agreed to take Trixie, and so she resigned she'd spend tonight confronting her existential crisis at the bottom of a bottle of wine.

***

What she couldn't quite place was the feathers. Good or evil, angel or demon, monster or not. He'd saved her. He, Satan, saved little oh Chloe Jane Decker. The question was why and that's why she finally pushed the button up to the penthouse.

The elevator dinged and she entered the empty space. One, two steps before not daring a third and retreated back to the elevator. She hit close repeatedly until she was entrapped in its safety once again.

She breathed heavily in what she knew were the early signs of a panic attack. Her hands reached out as she tilted her head upward, away from the sweat, the pool of fear she was drowning in. Her hands grasped then fell upon her throat, her chest, her necklace. The bullet caught between her fingers and she remembered the man she met back then, lying on the floor, bleeding to death for her and her daughter. He'd saved her then, too. She held it, focusing, breathing, toes touching the bottom of the pool.

At home, she'd only gotten half way through the bottle and 50 Google searches in before she'd made this decision. She wanted the truth. She wanted answers. She took one last breath and hit open. She slowly walked out, eyeing each corner for the Devil. Satan. Beezlebub. Old Scratch. No, she definitely wasn't going there right now.

The heat within and around Lucifer continued to grow, pulsing blue and gold beats down his back, playfully jumping across his swirled stitching before continuing inside each limb. He'd managed to unwrap himself out of the blanket with slight movements spaced over the last few hours.

His bareback faced her, somehow now bereft of the scars she once saw, and in their place, what looked like thin golden lines surging with flutters of blue, gold electrical signals, popping randomly. He curled, desperately balling his blanket to his stomach, leeching its comfort directly to his core. It was that movement that Chloe saw first.

Did he get hurt? Oh G.. She stopped herself from that particular saying. He must have. Her detective wheels spinned, considering all the evidence at the loft, then grinded to a halt. The blood on the feathers wasn't Pierce's, it was his.

_"It seems you make me vulnerable, too."_

The memory and realization radiated through her so strongly, she had no idea she was running up the steps toward his bed.

Her palm glided across his back, searching for the scars she once mistakenly dared to touch. She felt his muscles tense as she choked out a whisper, "Lucifer. You're wings. Lucifer, are you hurt?" His body relaxed but his mind raced. He selfishly pretended a few moments of sleep so that he might indulge, steal, just a bit more of her touch. He felt this new energy in him follow her touch, seeking her, much like his three little stars bounced after him. Was this some dream, elaborate joke, why would The Detective care to see him now that she knew? Why would she care if the Devil himself is hurt?

He sighed and slowly turned to her feeling the sparks along his back as they whined with sensitivity. He tried to subtly hide his back and with eyes still firmly shut, he croaked, "Detective?"

The fingers of one hand reached for his back, still, while her other hand let a thumb rub against his cheek, coaxing his eyes to open. He turned his face away, pushing his eyes closed tighter, all the while shoving his back into the soft down behind him.

Behind them, a loud crash came from his walk in closet and just like that, she'd released her hold. She stood abruptly, her hand fell to her sidearm, letting loose the latch and turning off the safety just as Raphael emerged. He had two bottles, one in each hand and something tucked under his arm.

"What's the difference between water and si-li-con based, Brother?" Quickly retrieving the item under his arm, he continued without looking up, "and is this inserted into some sort of open wound?"

Lucifer groaned, still unable to move after having used all the energy he had to face The Detective.

"The Detective!" Raphael chirped. He placed his items on Lucifer's nearby bureau and gave a quiet bow. "Be not afraid. I am Lucifer's brother, Raphael. I'm here to see to his recovery."

***

Raphael stood roughly the same height as his brother, but his hair a deep brown instead of black. It shined bits of blond that fell in tousled waves just over his ears and along his collar. He eyes, green, shined brightly as he looked Chloe over, bright with curiosity. He did not seem worried about his celestial origin, leaving his wings tightly tucked behind his back. They were still viewable behind his shoulders, a soft grey fading to a bespeckled white, before meeting an even softer yellow at the tips hiding just behind his calves. It looked like questionable objects weren't the only thing he'd gotten into while in Lucifer's closet. He was also wearing the outfit Lucifer bought when he was doing a bit of "Danning." Skinny fit jeans, hoodie, jacket. He was still barefooted, though.

 _"Not now, Raph, NOT NOW!"_ His temples pulsed painfully at the strength of his brother's voice across his mind. That'd never happened before.

"Right, I guess this is part of your recovery, let's get on then!" He left the room quickly to retrieve some items he saw earlier and returned with a bowl of warm water, a hand towel and a brush. He wiped his brother's face clean and leaned over to sit him up, propping his head with his blanket balled behind it. He quickly brushed Lucifer's disheveled locks into something closer to what he saw before they took him to the Silver City.

He smiled and prayed to his brother, _"Better?"_

 _"If Father did give me any new powers, I'll be using them to give you a third tit,"_ came the response.

The Detective still stood silent, her mouth agape as she eyed Raphael's wings. "Tea! Brother, I've brought some teas that should lift your energy to speak for a bit, but you will have to rest immediately after. I'll get to that right away!" He retrieved his bag from the corner of the room and made his way out.

Lucifer sat, completely unmoving, eyes closed. Chloe turned to watch Raphael leave and she waited, listening as he made far too much clatter to only be making tea. Satisfied he was away, she spun around at almost celestial speed to return her attentions to Lucifer.

With his eyes closed, she took her time to quietly investigate, leaning over his shoulders, looking for scars, or that strange light that followed her fingers. She looked at his face trying to adjust what she saw in the loft to this and then down to his right thigh, searching for the scar where she shot him, and finally, her eyes wandered further up and nope.

Nope. She mouthed to herself, fingers on temple and eyes focused on the floor. Nope.

Raphael returned quickly with three cups of tea, two white and one blue, on a small platter before him. He offered Chloe a cup before lifting the blue, steamless cup, to his brother's mouth. He continued to help his brother with the tea, patiently wiping his mouth with the towel after each use. Lucifer responded promptly, his head now squarely on his shoulders, his torso almost completely upright.

"Detective," he spurted out, "how is the tea?"

She shook her head, fingers pinching at the space between her eyebrows and rubbing in, deep. This absolute idiot. "Lucifer, are you hurt? Are you or your wings hurt?"

"If that's the reason you're here, Detective, I assure you, I'm completely fine."

 _"Privacy brother,"_ he smirked toward The Detective, but his mind shot thoughts elsewhere.

Raphael picked up his cup of tea and retreated to the chair in the far corner, but he did not leave the room. " _You should not be left unsupervised in your condition. Doctor's orders."_ He took a sip and smiled. _"Me being your doctor, of course."_

 _"Third tit and a tail! You absolute arse!"_ Lucifer retorted.

"Lucifer, I saw blood."

"Detective, you've realized by now I always tell you the truth."

"So then, it shouldn't be a problem."

Raphael watched the tennis match, haunched at the edge of his seat.

"I'm quite exhausted, Detective."

"So exhausted you can't show me your wings?"

 _"Oh she got you good!"_ Raphael giggled briefly before Chloe shot him a look that would make even Michael cower.

_"Keep it up and you'll make the platypus look like grand design rather than one of Father's follies!"_

Lucifer watched her hand climb up her chest, pinching the bullet between her fingers as she breathed bravely, interrogating the Devil himself. She was breathtaking.

"I am not hurt, Detective…"

"The wings, Lucifer."

"…but I also can not show you my wings. I apologize."

Chloe let go of the bullet and balanced between one foot to the other. She shot a look at Raphael's wings, then back at Lucifer. After all they'd been through, he still refused to share with her.

Her entire being felt betrayed. By religion, life, death and mostly love. Apparently now, God existed, life and the afterlife, immortals and regardless of it all, she couldn't help but feel slighted, manipulated, and she could give a damn, and in this case, quite literally, what it all meant.

She nodded once, twice and quickly spun on her heel to leave.

Lucifer leaped forward, his torso hovering between her and bed, as he grasped her right hand. "It's not that I won't, Detective." His eyes were closed but they lifted on their edges in a plea she felt desperately, "It's that I can't." His grasp gave way and he began to slink down toward the floor before his brother grabbed him from the waist and righted him once more. "I visited my father." He breathed shallow, face pushing into the blanket as he blindly reached and successfully was able to touch her fingertips with his own. He sighed and succumbed to sleep.

Chloe watched his fingers intertwined with hers, and quickly ran over the exchange. She looked up at Raphael, curiosity burning through them both, "Can… Can… Is he able to see us?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the random change in styles, tone. I'm working through it, but as my first fic, really just having fun going thru the scenarios in my head. Suggestions always welcome. Next up, we face the Detective diving into what has happened to her partner.


	5. No Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Chloe have a true sit down, the situation begins to unravel and Raphie is their stan.

The steam from the shower had filled the entirety of her bathroom as Chloe spent what must have been an hour beneath the now cold streams of water. She massaged the bruising beneath her collar from where Cain's bullet hit her and let her mind envelop in the night's memories, slip into the blur of white, surrounding her from screams and then pillowed beneath her, as he placed her down high on the rooftop. She wondered if she'd ever see them again. She wondered if she'd ever see him whole and in what form?

She watched Raphael adjust Lucifer in his bed before leaving. He softly removed the blanket and rewrapped it tightly around him before running a wet towel down his temples and across his eyes. The comfort between the two brothers was palpable. His movements were careful and practiced over what must have been eons of caring for others. She felt an outsider to the intimacy of it and quickly used it as a way to excuse herself.

In bathrobe, she briefly considered sending Lucifer a text. She had so many questions and she needed answers. She laid down and picked up her phone, tapping the text icon over his smug underwear photo that he'd set for himself as her profile picture of him. She shook her head, "breakfast?"

She looked at the send button and deleted the message. Best to not let him know she was coming. Less chance he'll run away. She huffed loudly and fell asleep, not bothering to change into pajamas.

***

Lucifer awakened to a tap along his back. Fingers traced from low, going upward where he felt the gold lines must be. They chased the light as it ran away, swirling and dipping, before a harsh jab of a fingernail made Lucifer jump forward. Raphie.

"Unhand me, you ugly excuse of a cockatiel!" He whined loudly as he attempted to squirm away from the prodding touch. His brother groused at the comparison.

"Sammy, can you open your eyes for me?"

"I don't go by that name anymore."

"Luc.. Lucifer? Open your eyes for me?" Raphael hovered just over his face, trying to get his brother to look at him. Instead, he turned and shoved his face further into the pillow.

"Why? So you can see father's handiwork?" Lucifer scoffed, disgusted. "So you can see how he once again created the perfect trap and I, the blubbering idiot that I am, fell right in. Willingly even." What else was he to do? He couldn't bargain with The Detective's safety and his father bloody well knew it. He'd created her for a reason, after all. Lucifer turned and propped up on his elbows and growled, low, "You saw what he's already done to me." He let his elbows slide and his body plop back into the bed, turning his face away from his brother and toward the elevator just as it dinged.

Lucifer's entire face scrunched up hard, his features gathering up top into a devilish Popeye as he tried with all his might to keep his eyes from flying open with surprise. She'd returned, not once, but now twice. His brother stayed unbearably close, searching his face, hoping he'd slip up and open his eyes. He didn't.

"Detective!" He mustered with all his energy, as he propped himself up again, but this time on one elbow, relaxing his face. He pushed his brother away and ran his hand through his hair, posing, just like one of them French girls.

"Lucifer, look, if you're not hurt, why is your brother here to help with your recovery?" She dropped her bag immediately upon entrance and began to pace furiously in front of the bar, "and if you're the Devil, am I … damned?" She paused, "is that why…" her voice went a bit higher, "is that why you're my _partner_?" She stopped, considering the realization as fear that should have been there before, suddenly, unwelcomingly, began to creep its way in.

Raphael sensed his brother freefall into panic and stopped trying to see his eyes. "Detective! Good morning," he came out of the shadows and walked toward her, stopping only for a brief and polite bow. "Now, now. I'm sure we'll have time for all your questions. I was just about to help my brother with breakfast. Join us?" He untucked his wings a bit from his back and let them flare a bit for effect. Lucifer groaned and fell back into bed. Still, he was thankful for the intervention.

"Right," Chloe peeked at his wings again. He's an angel. A real angel, "ok…" She let herself be led to the sofas and seated before a small table as Raphael hurried back to Lucifer.

"Just give us a minute!" He shouted back before scurrying up the stairs to his brother and grabbed the closest arm, throwing it behind his neck and lifted him quickly by his waist. He walked Lucifer quickly to his large shower, the entire thing a good 5 paces each way in a perfect square. The floors made of pebbles and the walls of thin bricks, all in various shades of grey. On the left hand end laid a black stone bench where upon Raphael sat him on, not bothering to remove the loin cloth. He turned the water on and quickly left for more supplies. It seemed clear by now, he'd obviously scouted the area very well.

He returned with a pair of boxers for Lucifer, a dressing gown, and various towels. Lucifer, trying the best he could, was using the nearby hand shower to rinse himself off. Raphael grabbed two bottles off an engraved shelf on the far right wall, looked at them curiously, "no time for pleasantries, brother," and proceeded to squirt in his direction.

Lucifer mumbled various curses under his breath as he suffered the onslaught of soaps and shampoos, washing and rinsing as the humiliation continued. Oh, his brother was enjoying this alright. They were moving celestially fast: the water cut off, his loin cloth left in the shower, his hair wrapped in a towel, his body patted dry, his boxers slipped on and dressing gown tied nicely. Finally, he removed the head towel and his brother gave a quick brush through.

Lucifer absolutely loathed it all, but sighed with contentment as his brother finally helped him walk and sit in front of his detective.

***

"Why did you choose to work with me?" His detective had had a few minutes to really think this over and had carefully chosen her first question. Raphael, with the same celestial quickness, served Lucifer and Chloe tea. The special energy boost one for Lucifer and a nice green tea for Chloe. He looked between them and quickly retreated to the kitchen.

"I," he might as well get this out, he thought, "I never lied to you, Detective. I am the Devil, but I decided to stay in LA after my retirement."

"But, WHY ME."

"I found you interesting…" he smirked at his own joke, "and wildly irritating, as well." He sipped his tea, perking up at the early memory of their first encounters.

He saw her face drop. Her patience was wearing thin and his room for evading the truth was smaller than a hobbit's outhouse. "My powers… my powers did not work on you."

"Your powers?" Chloe put her cup down and leaned forward, zig zagging her finger in the direction of his closed eyes. "Your whole mojo thing!" She was pleased to be putting this together.

"Yes."

"So you can make people confess?"

"I'm not a bloody priest, Detective."

"Then what then?"

"I have the power to draw out people's desires." His hips shimmied into the sofa as he tried again, "People just like to tell me things."

Chloe snorted, "like a Jedi." As much as she should be afraid, falling into their old encounters, the man she knew, not the devil she knows, relaxed her. "Tell me about your wings."

***

Lucifer sipped slowly, knowing her patience for evasion was far beyond thin, but also not wanting to speak about this _particular_ topic.

"You used them to protect us."

Lucifer grimaced. "Yes."

"To protect me" she tried to look him in the eye, "and to get me to safety." Even eyes closed, she could tell, he was avoiding her. "I heard you scream."

Lucifer inhaled tightly, he didn't know she heard that. "Why won't you show me?" She, ever the detective, prodded him, deep in his thoughts. "Why won't you show _me_." Her voice just short of a cry.

"Detective, please, no. It's that. It's that.. that I currently have nothing to show."

Her mind tornadoed and swept all the present with it, leaving only memories: the scars, the case of lost wings, the hurt when she tried to touch. She gasped, another panic attack setting in, and Lucifer leaned in to comfort her, stopping just short of her cup of tea, "did you.. Did you cut them off?" Her mind stopped to even consider, and her heart pounded more, _"Again?"_ She whispered.

"No! NO! Detective, not this time, no!" He grimaced at his slip up of "this time," She vomited out all the air in her lungs. Her body wretched in rhythms, one hand on chest, other on table, trying to stabilize, to get air, to understand. Desperate, he patted her fingers beside the cup of tea with his own. "I'll show you."

He reached for the belt of his dressing gown, softly letting go its tie and modestly letting it open slightly, from navel up. He shook his shoulders slightly and let the sleeves fall open off his shoulders, clinging to his biceps. He shifted a bit in his seat, turning his knees away from her and then pulled a bit more at waist until the garment worked its way past his arms to his waist, his torso bare. He focused down at his hands and turned, allowing her to see.

She grounded herself at his offering. He was going to actually open up, share, and for once, stop hiding. He faced away from her, a sheen of embarrassment undisguisable, but he did not shy away. She wanted answers and he was offering. Her curiosity peaked, remembering her last thoughtless interaction with his back, and she slowly made her way around the table. The bouncing lights, the gold-laced lines. She let her fingers flow, from down to up, like Raphael just minutes before, but the light danced with her. It chased her fingers, flourishing with back kicks and rotations around her finger tips. She giggled, bringing one hand up to her mouth as the other played. Lucifer was basking in the delight, the energy seeping into him, warmth, filling and profound. His spine straightened and her hand whipped away.

"He didn't! Did he cut them off!?" Both hands covered her mouth and a fury came across her that, wanting to or not, made Lucifer's spine straighten a bit more, his chest jutting out.

"My father? He did not." He looked for his brother, for support, but he was still stuck in the kitchen. "He gave me a blessing, and I apologize, Detective, but that is why I am so weak right now."

Chloe walked slowly back to her sofa. What had he done to him? His energy, his wings, his eyes! Her mind raced, there were good AND bad gods, right? She started to scan her minimal knowledge of greek myths. Was this a bad god?

Lucifer lifted his dressing gown, securing it again. "I assure you, Detective, he told me they will be just fine!" He nervously assured her. Had she grown so attached to them in just that one moment? "They were even healed before their binding and blessing."

She looked at him, absolutely alien. A binding? A blessing?

Raphael suddenly dropped a tray between them, chest lifted high and the low yellow tips of his wings fluttering. "Breakfast!"

On the tray featured a bowl that definitely seemed like Raphael aimed at Lucifer. Three, hand-size, perfectly spherical balls in a bowl. It was as if a red grape and a grapefruit had a baby. On the other side, what looked like a bowl of hand crushed crackers, a small fish, gutted and cleaned, and a small decanter of wine. Raphael removed the napkin from tray and threw it over his shoulder, pleased.

Chloe eyed the oddity, coughed and cleared her throat, "A blessing?"

***

Raphael, satisfied with his breakfast, had fully returned to "supervising" his brother, despite the constant curses his brother prayed upon him.

He sat vigilant, enthralled.

Lucifer slowly cut the odd fruit, eating it in pieces, but demanded his brother bring him his "phone" so he could order something decent for The Detective. "It wasn't what I planned, nor do I know all of the ramifications, but it was of my choosing, Detective."

He was ecstatic to be discussing something other than his devilish side and if she was willing to oblige, he was going to share any little detail to keep her by his side. The selfish little devil in him was doing cartwheels.

"So, he cut them off?"

"No, no. Keeping them at bay, per se, as he suggested they can become a bit unruly," he laughed, "quite like their owner."

"But, you said blessings give you powers, have you discovered them?"

He bit into a piece of his fruit, thankful his brother brought the little delights. "Nope!" He popped the "P", gleeful. "Well, I mustn't lie," he added, afraid, "I think I know one."

"What!" Chloe and Raphael closed space and shouted in unison.

"Passover that fine cutlet of fish my brother prepared and the red wine," he looked down, eyes closed, "and Detective, you must get rid of that drab leather jacket and get comfortable, we have much to discuss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im open to critique, opinions, where you want this to go. first fic and i often do these chapters in spurts. looking forward to your comments.


	6. Still Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Raphie delve a bit more into Lucifer's powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The devil is a bit too happy to avoid the topic at hand (the face reveal end of s3), but just how is Chloe sorting this out?

"It's not so much that I can see it," Lucifer finished off the last of the wine, licking his lips at the loss, "as I know it. I know it is there and so I can see it."

Lucifer had gone through the fish in a matter of minutes, the fruit and now, the wine. His appetite was voracious and his energy unquenched. He called the deli who were set to bring Chloe's breakfast and added to it a plethora of baked goods, desserts and sandwiches, requesting them brought over in small batches when complete and promising great rewards for doing so.

"It seems to be also spreading." Able to sit more upright now, he adjusted the tie around his waist and shifted position, relaxing on the armrest, "I knew The Detective was in the elevator and so I saw her, but I don't know if she arrived by Uber or by that embarrassment she insists on calling a car." Lucifer paused, breathed slowly, "but now," he breathed again, " now, I can see Patrick has just finished parking."

***

The fact her world kept shifting made it impossible for Chloe to put her feet on the ground, and maybe that was for best. Instead of planting herself and her life in the fact she was close with, quite possibly in… well, the fact that her partner was the actual devil, she let herself get swept in the tidal wave of new and unfathomable. Each new bit of knowledge ebbing and flowing against a supernatural boat she apparently boarded long ago. There, she found herself clinging to Lucifer, the bullet around her neck her life vest.

Before her were two archangels, dark curls springing dry on one's head as he sucked the skin of some Heaven-sent fruit in the most obscene way possible. The other, dressed like her ex-husband, made his way behind his brother, toward the balcony, the bedroom, somewhere he had had no intention of arriving at once he got behind Lucifer. He pounced without warning, gripping Lucifer's head in a headlock and quickly climbed over the back of the couch to drag Lucifer's head with him, cradling his head in his chest as laid back against the armrest.

"If you'd just open your eyes and let me see, maybe we could find out more! Maybe I can help you, brother!" Raphael pinned his head as close to his brother's as he could to duck Lucifer's wailing arms.

Lucifer freed his right arm and began to pound a flat palm firmly at the back of his brother's head, "It's of no use, brother! You can't help me with THIS!" Each word was followed by an echoing thud.

Raphael secured the arm to slow the thuds, "How do you know if we haven't even tried!" He pleaded, fingers crawling up and pulling down on his brother's cheek.

Lucifer's shook his head furiously before his left hand found his brother's locks and pulled.

Two archangels were before her, one playing a symphony, the other providing all the voiced squeals and echoing thuds needed to orchestrate this masterpiece of dysfunction.

"Stop! Just stop!" She placed her arm on Lucifer's, stopping his thudding arm, "Now you! Let go of his shoulder!" Raphael released his brother's shoulder but held firmly on to his face, his fingers still pulling at cheek. Chloe grabbed Lucifer's left arm as he went for another yank, "No! Let go of his face, Raphael." Raphael made no movement and Lucifer used Chloe's diverted attention to get a quick yank in. "Both of you stop it, right now!" She yanked the back of Raphael's hoodie, catching him by surprise long enough for Lucifer to free himself. He released Raphael's hair and quickly slid to the other side of the sofa, clutching his dressing gown closed. Chloe, unsatisfied, guided him up by his elbow and led him to the couch across, setting him the furthest distance from his brother.

She sat on the same sofa, her hands on her knees, and blew air slowly out her bottom lip, bangs flaring at the huff. She had no idea why he was refusing to open his eyes, but by quick topic changes every time it came up, she felt it was a sensitive subject for him. If he was ready to open up about the rest, she'd let him have this one. 

"While I DO NOT agree with his tactics," she glared at Raphael who was scratching his head. "I agree, it'd probably be helpful for you to have more information about this." She wiggled the fingers on both hands and gestured wildly at his body. "I mean, you're dad's last treatment of you didn't seem exactly… pleasant." 

She winced, thinking of the visage she saw, red, scarred, burned. As that wave of reality threatened to overturn her boat, the thought of his pain and suffering, and the fact he still was a good enough man to save her, kept her afloat. "Really, are you ok?"

"I assure you detective, I'm absolutely fine."

"You can barely walk!"

"I'm gaining strength by the moment!" He stood up abruptly, grinned mischievously and then took his seat again.

"Your blessing, I mean how do we even know it's a good thing? How do we even know what it involves? I mean… " she sighed, "you said you haven't spoken to your Father in eons." She paused, trying to fathom a father choosing to not speak to their child, rejecting, abandoning him and imagined all her own father would do if they could have the same chance. 

She looked firmly at Lucifer, his face turned to the elevator. Her voice, pained, asked, "why would he just whisk you off to Heaven and give you this blessing now?"

Raphael shifted in his seat. The same question burned in him, but he dared not ask. He dared not question his father, nor throw away a chance to once again help his most injury-prone brother. 

"Oh that's easy, Detective!" The elevator dinged and opened to reveal a delivery boy. Delighted at the interruption and chance for a change in topic, he stood up and made a labored walk to collect the delivery. "There's a new presence and Father, " he spun around to briefly face and bow toward her, "will need my assistance." He drew out the second half of the sentence, quite pleased with himself.

***

The boat was definitely now capsizing and Chloe was clinging to its edges. White knuckled.

A presence? What did that even mean? She slipped on the froths of waves.

His father, God, needed his help? She rolled across the deck.

She was drowning when Raphiel sat between her and Lucifer, popping her privacy bubble. "What do you mean by presence, brother? What did Father say?"

Lucifer, busy unwrapping and laying out a buffet across the coffee table, snorted. "When does He ever tell me much of anything? He said there was a Presence." He picked up a sandwich, immediately biting into it and began a sing-song: "It likes to create. It is currently in hell. It can cross planes." He continued to chew. 

"And you have a familiarity with all three." Raphael whispered.

"Um hm!" He licked the mayo off his lips, the hole in his stomach finally calming and the displeasure of their last topic dissipated and misted out to sea. He turned the sandwich to catch the parts falling, running from his eager teeth. "AND. Father's not quite sure of its intentions, so, he'll need my helP." 

Chloe's was tugging at her necklace fiercely by now, listening to the information Lucifer and his brother were passing. Her detective brain set her upright, her feet steady, when she heard "its intentions" and "help". Did his father think this thing was bad? What even was it? Lucifer had just swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, crumbling the wrapper in his hand, when she grabbed him by the lapels of his dressing gown and pulled him to "face" her. 

"We need to find out what powers you got." She yanked at him, pulling him up and away from the sofa, the coffee table buffet. She dragged him toward the elevator, Raphael on their heels, pausing only to pick up his bag.

"But! Detective! Just.. Just 3 or 4 minutes more! Their hummus is to DIE FOR."

"Three or four minutes?"

"He's just around the block! They make it fresh daily!"

She released his gown, "it's still spreading, isn't it? Your 'sight'. You can see further now?"

"He has your lemonnnnnnnn bars."

She shoved him in the elevator and hit down.

***

They sat on remote part of beach, a backdrop of rocks just behind them, the sun just about to set as she finished off a sandwich Lucifer insisted she eat or he "would not be her guinea pig." 

She'd never allowed him to really gather any clothing, or shoes for that matter, so he sat in just his boxers, upon a large sheet she always kept in her trunk for messy encounters. Raphael had only walked a few steps before she advised him to remove his shoes and socks.

In a normal situation, Lucifer would be petulant: no Armani and his hair was an absolute horror. The sun was setting, though, and it was the second day she still had not left him.

She had, in fact, brought her car and after Lucifer escaped to accost the delivery boy, they all got in. She immediately fumbled through her glove compartment for paper and a pen and handed it to Raphael. Lucifer's hands were already deep in the bag of food. He'd be completely useless for the ride.

"Ok, we need to make a list."

"A list?" Raphael really liked this human. She got Lucifer to cooperate. Maybe he still had a chance yet of examining his eyes.

"A list of powers, abnormal skills, that he might have and we can test."

"Shortened refractory period." Lucifer chewed out. She reached to take his bag away and he huddled, the smug smirk disappeared off his face.

"Just write, Raphael." She shouted ideas as they drove, Raphael adding his own along the way and Lucifer interrupting with inappropriate ones.

So now they sat, relaxing, amongst rocks made to pebbles, logs to pieces. He was able to able to lift and bring them to him. 

She nibbled the last of her sandwich as he played with the waves making them dance behind Raphael, him unknowing. They sauntered and teased above his head, yet not touching, not until he let them crash down upon him, soaking him to the brim. Chloe giggled and Lucifer let the sand roll up, a sandstorm, fending his brother off.

For him, it seemed quite clear, he had all his powers as he did before, but with a little more "umph". Something else was added, though, and he didn't know how, but Earth seemed to accept him warmly. Quite warmly. In fact, his skin seemed to have a light glow to it. Everything: sea, air and cloud seemed to speak to some part of him. Chloe wasn't quite sure what she was seeing until Raphael pulled something from his bag, did a rough scrape across Lucifer's arm and ran off. 

"OW!! That right GIT! That's twice today." Lucifer stood, the waves misting in concern. 

"Lucifer," she remembered how sweetly his brother cared for him in weakened form and quickly rose with him, "just let it go." She rubbed some bread crumbs out of his stubble and they promptly sat back down on the sheet.

Oh, Raphael was quite fond of this human, indeed. He put his sample in his bag and quietly came out of the shadows, "I'm sorry brother. You used to let me…" He sighed, truly apologetic that his curiosity always got the best of him. He knew, though, this relationship needed repair. "I'd really like to help you."

"Then grab The Detective a lemon bar and a sandwich for you and me. I believe you haven't eaten, brother."

They were just one or two bites in, when Lucifer froze, eyeing for something that just was not there. The sea misted, crested and rised just as he did. He turned to face it, his breathes coming in faster, harder, a new, larger wave arising with each inhale. It created a mist around them. The sand lifting, but not touching, just a few centimeters off the ground, as though waiting command.

What must have been one to two seconds passed what have been minutes for Chloe and Raphael. Suddenly, the waves calmed, the sand sat quietly, almost respectfully, and Lucifer was seated again.

"What was that, brother?"

"I felt it." Lucifer swallowed. Well, he'd gotten himself in a pickle. In his desperation for her to not leave, he'd likely said maybe too much to The Detective the past day.

"What, felt what?" She prodded. Still, he comforted himself, she still hadn't left him. HIM.

"The Presence." He grimaced at his brother, warning, "it is quite large." He looked at Chloe, "and it's here on Earth."


	7. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer's faced with transformation and gets unexpected help.

Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. 

The way he could see, the way he knew each grain of sand that lifted around them, he also felt those in the Arabian Desert, calm legions listening for his command, each peak a sentinel at await. All but for one large area, where his troops where MIA, an entire area unaccounted for. The Presence was felt not for its own being but for those not accounted for. Then, suddenly, it left. His soldiers wandered, minds addled with confusion.

He sat only a second or two, considering what really was large? If he felt every grain of sand, every being on Earth (which he had yet to admit to his company), what exactly is "large?" He wondered this quietly in the seconds he took to sit.

The wind around them had cooled, the waves uncharacteristically calm as Lucifer finished picking through his bag, trying to ignore the looks of worry and mouths agape. The glow of his skin was becoming frustratedly more obvious to him as both his brother and The Detective crowded around him, their bonfire.

***

They'd arrived at the penthouse close to midnight and by then, he was less bonfire, more furnace. He'd began to jut forward a good thirty minutes into the ride, the energy was exploding in his back from an unmistakable source. It continued, every 10 minutes, leaving him with his hands on dash and heaving by the time they arrived.

When the car stopped, Raphael yanked him out by waist and walked briskly to the elevator, this time it was Chloe who ran behind. Lucifer had the strength, more than enough, to walk, but he couldn't feel the edge of it. Like getting bit by a fire ant, but not sure where the pile is. He didn't want to be swarmed and taken by surprise. He had no idea where these new sensations were coming from and he wasn't willing to risk it around The Detective.

The next time Lucifer awakened, he was floating in his hot tub, his detective holding his head above water as Patrick deposited buckets of ice from the elevator and Raphael ran furiously throwing each one into the tub.

Still, he sweated. Every five minutes, now, he jerked uncontrollably as his back gathered together its rebellion, and each time with it, the buzz of The Detective's phone. Electronics were a bit hard for him to get a hold of, to "see". 

Still he heaved, jerked as his back betrayed him and then it buzzed. "Late night booty call?"

"Not YOUR phone." She held him, head above water and anchored an arm under his for leverage. They huffed quietly.

He jerked, it buzzed. "Spawn need an exorcism?"

She wrangled him back upright. "Why, have recommendations?" She yanked a towel from behind her and let it soak in the ice water then ran it across his head, "I mean, how exactly does one get on the top of Satan's 'Best Exorcist' list? Is there a demon "boss" The Exorcist must conquer first?" Those hours of googling were worth some quips, afterall, she thought.

"I assure you dear, that's all just fantasy. Now. Mazikeen feasted on Pazuzu eons ago." He huffed, utterly offended she thought he'd let that go on.

He jerked and it buzzed. "It's Dan." She confessed. "It's just… you were supposed to come by and give your statement, he has Trix, and I am not responding." She dipped and wiped his head again. "He's worried."

He let the towel run over his hair, his temples, and basked in her care. It might have been three seconds but he would savor it. He sighed, reaching for the rim of the hot tub, "Right, best we get on, then." He quickly lifted himself and forced a confrontation of what he'd become.

However, whatever he'd become took more than his physical being to move as he quickly discovered, one, two, three steps into his stride toward the bar. The weight of his presence, his being, was almost a burden as he took two more steps in, barely making it into the penthouse, where upon Raphael caught him, just before falling to his knees.

"What has father done to me, Raphie?" His felt his physical presence falling prone, his being was no longer his own. Not one he recognized.

"What had to be done." Raphael turned him sideways, cradling him, feeling the surge that was coming and throughout his brother's screams of pain and partnering yelps of healing, he held him.

Until his wings came forth.

***

It all happened in what seemed like mere seconds. By the time Chloe had ran to find the source of the screams, Raphael had his wings, spread wide, creating a barrier between her and an unimaginable glow behind him.

He ran toward her, "Detective, Detective, I assure you! He'll be quite fine," he attempted to look back and shielded his eyes, "but right now, his power is too great."

Raphael felt and smelled it. The ash was in the fireplace was rising. "Please Detective! He'll never forgive me if you are hurt!" His voice was raw, guttural and if anything, her police instinct believed him and so she followed, lost, blindly, hand instinctually laying at her side for a gun she left behind. He led her just past the bath down a hallway where two nicely maintained guest rooms appeared. How did he know these so well when she'd been here hundreds of times before? Then again, where exactly did Maze live before she moved in with her?

"Please," Raphael's voice pleaded with a loss, "we might have visitors but promise me. Promise me you will not leave this room." Though she didn't know him long, if nothing, Raphael was true to trying to help, regardless of his tactics. She, however, had spent too much time around Lucifer, and so she bargained, "for tonight. I'll stay here until you come for me." He nodded quickly in agreeance and disappeared.

***

When he returned, Michael was standing before his brother. He was trying and seemed to succeed looking at his brother for more than a few seconds before he had to force his eyes away. Lucifer, wings now free, writhed tiredly on the floor, unaware or more likely, uncaring of his surroundings. It was the same position they both last met, but never could have the tables turned more strongly.

His Father had chosen to bless one brother. One of the two twins.

His wings, often the source of envy amongst angels for their brilliance and inherent glow, now glowed the same and more. A previous barely-there gold light was now a sheen of gold over his entire being. The wings seemed lined in a thin thread of gold, touching every end and tip. When Michael stepped close, dots of energetical blue shot from his being and marched across each primary feather, sharpening each end and preparing them for war.

Behind Michael came forth the host, smaller angels descending to witness what appeared to be a "showdown", much like they heard happened when The Adversary was first cast out. With each arrival, Lucifer heaved a new breath, rising, and Michael scowled. They continued to descend, to watch Satan before the Great Michael, who shouted, finally, "BE GONE! YOU ARE NOT NEEDED HERE!"

Air shifted quickly as each angel ran off. Raphael stepped in, averting his eyes to pick Lucifer up and carry him to bed. His wings softened and cocooned around him as Raphael walked and then laid him to a far side as he stretched out his blanket across the middle. He lifted him and placed him center, grasping the blanket. His hand was stopped.

"I will do it." Michael had no idea how to do it, but he knew this would somehow help his brother and so he worked, tightly folding and tucking the blanket over his brother, taking a few seconds to look and the rest to look away. His time away so long, he never noticed Lucifer's head following his movement. 

"Why are you helping me?" Lucifer finally broke the silence.

Michael gasped, reaching for Lucifer's closed eyes and thwarted by a quick snap of the Devil's head.

"But you can still see?"

"Release me."

Michael continued his ministrations, paying fine detail to wrapping the blanket tightly. "I didn't listen to you before, what makes you think I'd start now?" It was a low blow, thinking about their disagreements before the fall, but he continued on, smoothing the blanket.

Lucifer released, instead. Letting the fire burning consume him as it raced up his being, flaming from toe to torso and… Michael released his own wings. Fine grey feathers spread across the room as he laid upon his brother, shielding his light from doing harm, feeling them singe from underneath and burn from the flame of his brother's anger. 

He took it, he endured it and then, finally breathed out: "Brother, I believe you care for some humans here. This is why father blessed you. There is still one close. I feel it, but I don't know where."

Lucifer breathed and closed his eyes. He knew who and where. His light diminished in an instant.

"Why," he licked his lips. "Why would you help me."

"Because brother," he huffed as his wings smoldered, "I believe you've changed." Lucifer's phone rang, Chloe's face popped up on screen and Michael smiled, "In more ways than one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan's been calling... 
> 
> There's other characters and things I'm missing, I try to write it out, check it as best I can and move on. It's a learning process as it's my first fic so just having fun. tks for the comments last ch!
> 
> the exorcist bit is a definite nod to a show that came out on fox around the same time lucifer premiered. great actors and it hooked back into original movie. it was cancelled in the same round lucifer on fox was.


	8. Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's visit is explained as is Lucifer's blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still on trajectory for what I planned for this story, just some of the inner workings of characters changed and that really made it hard to publish this chapter and replan my route to the end. I watched the pilot live from start and remember the heated discussions back then about where this show would go and remember the excitement. I'm working through one of my earlier ideas on how I thought it would play out and having fun with it.

The brief moment that Lucifer paused to speak only lasted a few breaths before the surge of light overtook him and Michael had to blanket him again with his wing. The underside stayed singed as he laid beside his brother, both sweating and heaving profusely.

Blue and yellow lights glowed through the windows of the penthouse, flashing lower Los Angeles club-style, resembling the red and blue of police sirens. Each round was joined with a crowd of three muffled shouts as they struggled to bring it back into control. 

Raphael had moved the chair to bedside, hovering beneath Michael's wing. He used one hand to squeeze Lucifer's shoulder, reassuring him, the other traced relaxing circles on Lucifer's temple. His finger lightly teased the light that he now was able to see moments at a time.

There was a pause where they gathered their breathes for the next round. "I would have been here sooner, brother, but I was caring for Father," Michael cringed as the light began to surge. 

Raphael attempted to rise, but Michael caught him by the sleeve of his hoodie, and shook his head no. "Father is… Well, he's aware of the situation."

"Does he need my help, brother?" Raphael panicked as he tried to rise again and was forced down, Michael gripping him by the zipper this time.

"No. It's nothing that you can fix, brother. He gave it willingly," he said as he released Raphael and he looked down upon his brother. The light rose steadily and they both nodded in understanding.

The surge began again. 

***

By three a.m., The "club" lights were no longer flashing as often, giving them more pause for discussion.

"Well, I believe you said it yourself, brother," Michael sat at the foot of the bed and mocked his accent, hovering one in arm in the air as though resting on an armrest and the other cupped around an invisible drink, _"Now, do you think I’m the Devil because I’m inherently evil, or just because dear old Dad decided I was?"_ Michael chuckled, having witnessed this himself, as he witnessed every confrontation Amenadiel had with his brother. Every time he dragged his twin back to his own prison, Hell.

Because both Michael and Raphael chose their accents by locale, traversing from Enochian to American English to British English made the words fall flat, losing the humor he intended. He stood up quickly, feeling his brother's mood change rapidly at the impression he gave. Lucifer's scowl peaked as he began to bow at the waist to grab Michael, but too weak to fully rise. 

Michael had thought of this moment a long time. He and his twin brother, face to face after eons. 

He moved away from the bed, just slightly out of reach. He wore black slacks, much as his brother preferred, though shoes not quite as expensive. He chose a thin, black cashmere sweater to compliment his deep grey wings. His hair was a light blond, trimmed neatly on the back and sides as short curls crowned the top, falling softly across his forehead. There were still slight scrapes healing all along the right side of his face, neck and further down his flank that Raphael had already accosted him for, applying ointment from his bag as soon as he laid eyes on his brother.

Lucifer huffed, looking away from his brothers and trying grasp what was in him. What his Father gave him and what it did to his Father, he was only beginning to grasp. The power was like trying to hold water in his very weak hands. As time passed, he became stronger and what used to leak entirely through his fingers now held a small pool in one palm. He just wanted to hold enough in both hands, enough to grasp, to feel, to drink from. 

Michael sat down on the bed in front of him, "Father and I met in the same room, brother, just before your arrival."

***

_Michael had never entered these quarters, particularly, but his eyes were drawn immediately to the glass, the floor of the arena._

_He walked hastily to the window, looking down. Silent._

_He wore similar robes and armor as he did that day he dragged his brother, bleeding, across the arena floor. He accepted long ago what he was made to be. The warrior, God's enforcer, his brother's betrayer. To take that armor off again would undermine everything he'd done and all his brother suffered._

_The three little stars fussed with his hair, incessantly ducking under curls and quickly fleeing when he tried to bat them away. Each time they skipped away, they pulled in small tugs, much like his twin often did when teasing him. Their departure each time lasted only seconds before circling back for more. After the first initial tries, he let them taunt and play with his hair, enjoying a connection to his brother he hadn't felt in eons._

_A glow overcame the room and he did not turn until it slowly dissipated. It'd been millennia since he and his Father spoke directly, often simply relying on Gabriel to deliver his Father's orders._

_When he turned, he faced an adolescent version of his brother, black curls free and in disarray around his entire head. He was dressed in the shorter white robes that Samuel preferred back then as he greedily picked at the filet mignon on the coffee table before him._

_"Sit," God cleared his throat surprised at the croak, "sit, son." The Samael before him was jarring, his look impish as always, but without the passion and maturity he gained when he learned of free will._

_Michael did as told, sitting directly across from his Father, but did not partake in the plate that mirrored that which his father was currently digging into. Once the surprise of seeing his brother's form again wore off, he straightened his back and looked forward, plainly, past his Father to the wall behind him._

_"Right. Your commands." God sipped his wine, irritated, but already knowing this. Ever since their last meeting, his son refused any sort of interaction with others other than to simply do as commanded. He avoided the teaching of fledglings, the regular hunts and practice battles. He did as commanded and then he retreated to his room, unleashing his emotions on his quarters until everything was utterly destroyed, came back together and then he destroyed it again. Only his father knew this._

_Michael's blinks grew languid, enjoying each tug the little sparks gave as his father cleared his throat once again, "I need you to retrieve your brother from Earth. I won't keep you from him any longer."_

***

Lucifer pants began to speed up and Michael returned to the present, laying on his side next to his brother and draping his wing over him, "I tried to visit you, brother," he tightened his wing around him.

Lucifer's breathing stopped and he turned to look at his brother in the eyes, even though his remained closed. Their blue color now such a brilliant grey they edged on silver. Tears began to form near the edges of his eyes, "I did. I never once even made it to the gates of the Silver City. The first time, I was pulled back to Father's quarters where he informed me I was prohibited from trying to see you again. Then, he imprisoned me in my own quarters." His eyes fell downward, resigned. 

Lucifer's brows furrowed, vague images of his brother's chambers passing through his mind. Michael, understanding, explained, "He created a barrier all around, even my shouts were muted, " he sighed. 

"Well," Michael did not want to take up his brother's time with his own story, knowing his brother got the far worse part of the deal. "Long story short, from that day forward, every attempt I made, I was pulled back to my chambers."

The surge began to subside and Michael released his brother, sitting up in bed and shaking the pain in his wings.

***

_His father's command finally broke Michael's lifeless daze. He made movements to rise and his father stopped the cutting of his knife to raise his hand, "Your brother's retrieval will not be pleasant. He will be angry and injured. Please allow me to explain."_

_"Hurt! How!" Michael's whole body tensed, the armor chinking together around him tightly. He was losing patience as quickly as his brother would after him, "hasn't he suffered enough, Father!"_

_"He has," which is why I am ordering you to listen closely and help him._

_The admittance sent a rush of blood to Michael's head, giving him that floating feeling that he got the week before when his father commanded him to help Raphael test his medications. The Miracle and the revealing, the retrieval, the binding, and the blessing. It was all explained with calculated efficiency, a General laying out his plans and orders to his long time Lieutenant for the last time._

_"It's imperative you wait until he returns to Earth. He'll be weakened enough to keep his anger at bay, but pulsing with enough strength that only the strongest of my creations can help him gain control. I'll be sending you and Raphael to assist, but it is you he must listen to." God, finishing his plate, cleaned each finger with a suck and a pop, "you must give him a message."_

_God used a napkin to finish wiping his mouth and slowly rose. Slightly embarrassed by the shortened robes before realizing the younger appearance he'd assumed; he ran his hand down his legs before he turned and made his way toward the glass window. The three stars paid no heed._

_"You must tell him he is the Second."_

_Michael's rising was nowhere near as collected. It was raw and uncontrolled, a spring releasing through the holes of an overburdened mattress. "The Second what, Father?"_

_Silence._

_"The Second in command?!"_

_His Father's gaze focused, unrestrained at the spot where he once summoned Hell._

_"The Second what?!"_

_God turned to Michael, "The Second God to rule our Universe."_

_***_

"You almost got it brother," Raphael flicked his brother's ear roughly and the light rose briefly before Lucifer pulled it back. "Your Detective will be here as soon as day breaks." 

Raphael had heard her stomping around her room, one, two hours after he left her. She attempted to listen in, her calls ignored after he hid the phone during one of his brother's early collapses. Eventually, he asked for some help from a sibling to soothe her to sleep. He smiled, "She seems quite stubborn."

"That's probably why he likes her," Michael smirked. He peered over his shoulder to see the last of dusk over Lucifer's balcony.

Lucifer turned his head to him, trying to stretch his new power. He let his "knowing" radiate, push, and flare to find out just how much his Father told Michael, but he could not breech his walls.

Michael rose and slapped his thighs, "I do think it's good enough to get started, though." He folded his wings and walked to Raphael's side of the bed and bent over, pulling at the edges of the blanket, testing the light as he began to release. Each pull on the blanket, light followed his fingers before Lucifer grasped it and held it back, just as he did when Raphael _mauled_ his ear. 

Michael continued the exercise until Lucifer was free. He then bent over to fling his arm over him and guide him to the main area, glancing quickly at Raphael. "Right, brother, your provisions?"

***

The room was buzzing with whispers, small snortles and delighted hums. The three brothers sat on the yellow Italian leather couches, Lucifer on the tip of small portion of the L, his legs hanging off, his back facing the corner with his wings spread on each side. The surges mostly retreated into a soft glow across his entire body while a rare dot of blue danced across every so often. 

Michael sat behind him, massaging an oil into the crease where each wing joined Lucifer's skin. The table was full of various items, the odd global fruit that Raphael supplied last, a bottle and glass filled with Lucifer's favored scotch, other small jars of ointments and a small bowl of what appeared to be a white powder that Lucifer often turned, dipped the tip of his pinky in and shoved up his nose.

Raphael deposited an odd-looking tool on the coffee table before zipping back to his bag, "Oh, he broke a few primaries and dislocated a joint," he shouted, jovially recalling his repair of Amenadiel's wing after he flew into a bridge.

Lucifer and Michael covered their mouths to hide their laughter, Lucifer failing much more than his brother. The sight brought a smile to Chloe's face, shaking her from her apprehension.

She feigned a yawn and they feigned surprise.

"Detectivvvvvvvvvvvve." Lucifer rose slowly, tucking his wings away quickly. "Right, apologies for the chaos, but please, come, come! This is my brother, Michael."

Chloe walked closer, the first time getting a good glance of Michael's face and realizing they were twins. Her hand rose, covering her mouth as he bowed curtly, "Detective." She giggled at the introduction, staring awkwardly nowhere. 

_This was her world now? Angels? The freaking Archangel, MICHAEL._

_The DEVIL? GOD?_

"Please, come sit, Detective!" Lucifer panicked. She was beginning to sway. "I'll get to making you a proper breakfast this time," he, too afraid to touch her, gestured to the couch as he gave Raphael a side glare for his failure of a meal last round. Raphael was still too entrenched in his bag to notice.

_A BLESSING? A PRESENCE?_

_A threat to her world._

"Okay." She ran her hands through her hair and couraged a smile, " Okay." She walked to the farthest point of the L and sat down quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is moving very fast and the motive was to introduce the "Presence" and open up ideas about Lucifer's creation and why? (If god is omniscient). Open to suggestions and comments, thanks for reading!


	9. Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe wakes up to discover another angel, Michael. Michael begins to explain why he is visiting and detail his meeting with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***WARNING: The pace of this chapter was much too fast and I felt it deserved some fleshing out. If you read it before, it has much the same objective, just a lot more meat. I apologize for not giving you more, I have an ending planned and I just felt I didn't dive deep enough here. I am deeply sorry, I'm working through the process of writing again.****
> 
> So, my idea after first season of Lucifer was quite tragic and this was how the idea began. It still ends happily, but must explain Lucifer's suffering.

Raphael finished digging through his bottomless bag, finding what he was looking for: a microscope. The clink of metal on the table caused Chloe to jump slightly. He reached quickly back in and began placing glass slides upon the table, lining them up neatly to the right of the microscope before adding the metal scrape he used on Lucifer at the beach.

Chloe couldn't bear the eerie resemblance Michael had to Lucifer and avoided looking at him by laying her focus on Raphael. She surveyed the instruments, taking comfort in them, their similarity, much like what Ella used in their investigations.

In fact, they looked _exactly_ like the instruments Ella used in her lab, from blood spotted slides, to the circular "He He He - laughing gas" sticker on back of the microscope's arm. Raphael finally placed a dark purple book to the left of the microscope, its spine facing Chloe. "DSM-5" was clearly readable even from her distance. He sat down, flicking the light of the microscope off and on and fidgeting with the knobs.

"Um… Raphael?" She began, uncertain of it was a bright idea to suggest an archangel was stealing.

"Here we go, Detective!" Lucifer reappeared, finally out of his dressing gown, his wings completely hidden. The black lines of his three-piece suit were traced in gold, the final remnants of his fight to control his new power. His eyes were still closed. He laid a tray filled with small, warm croissants, scrambled eggs, butters, jellies and fruits. He turned quickly and returned unnaturally fast with another filled with mugs of coffee, napkins and small plates. He lifted her coffee and set it quietly in front of her before retreating to the other end of the sofa with his brothers.

Chloe sat silent, clearing her throat, uncomfortably sure how to open a conversation.

"Right, well," Lucifer began, jumping quickly to the topic that kept her from fleeing last time, "Michael just arrived last night to help me, well, get a bit of this," he gestured to his body and smirked, "ready on demand." He inhaled and the glow lining across his suit retreated even further until it was barely visible. "I'd say it's going quite well. Handsome as ever!"

Michael stifled a laugh as Raphael placed Lucifer's skin scrape on a fresh slide.

Lucifer approached carefully, "A croissant, Detective? You really must be famished." He buttered one up and scooped some eggs to lay both on a small plate and set it softly beside her coffee, "Michael will tell you more, if you like." Lucifer blinked slowly and sent an energy to poke at the largest scrape along Michael's right flank, knowing it still hadn't healed from Father's spank-out-of-the-sky.

Michael jerked forward, instantly knowing where the pain came from and refusing to grace his brother with an "ow."

"Yes," Michael gathered himself, "Father's mentioned a Presence and that it is Lucifer and I who must help stop it."

Lucifer looked back in horror, shocked that not only had his brother chosen a topic they had not yet spoken of, but one so serious to begin with. Michael smiled back.

***

_God had removed all the food from the table after he revealed to his son what his that there was a Presence emerging. He pointed Michael back to his seat and he numbingly obeyed by instinct._

_His Father waited for a bit in silence before placing a marble chess board on the table. It's pieces were carved from ivory. Each piece held expression with burden and sorrow. The Queen with her hand upon her face, keeping her sobs at bay. The King with fists tight over what appeared the be a scroll, determined. The Knights - some upright, some close to collapsing from exhaustion. Both with horses far too lost to engage in battle._

_Michael looked at the board and back up at his Father. What good is a game with someone who is all-knowing?_

_"An unknown presence? You've blessed Lucifer to fight an unknown presence?"_

_"I wouldn't exactly call it unknown," his father gently lifted the king and rubbed it in his, Lucifer's, old robes. The king came out unchanged when he placed it back on the board._

_"I may have felt it before in my existence. I believe it to have created me." He picked up the queen, holding it in his lap, running the tip of his index finger over her face. He cupped his hand beneath his robe and laid her gently inside. His other hand picked up more cloth and wiped carefully, before gently placing the piece on the board, "it may have created Hell, as well."_

_"You're Father?" Michael whispered in disbelief._

_God retreated from the board to grasp a nearby bottle of wine and pour a glass for himself and his son, "Let us be clear, son, I never had a Father. I've never actually properly met him. I was created." He seethed. "Not raised."_

***  
Chloe snorted.

Michael turned to her, confused at her interruption.

"I'm," she placed her hands out in surrender, "I'm sorry! It's just after years of hearing Lucifer rant about his Father, is it REALLY that hard to figure out who he got his daddy issues from?" She snickered to herself. Wow, she'd gone from desperate panic to giggling over the absurdity of things in a matter of hours.

"I beg your pardon," Lucifer continued, offended, "but I believe it was I who invented daddy issues."

"Did you? Really?" She chuckled as he looked at her, mouth agape.

Lucifer's chin rose upward at her laugh, smiling. "Yes, well, a drink anyone?" He rose before anyone could answer, removing the breakfast trays before exiting.

Chloe was letting the giggles settle as she unraveled the information at hand. She had to treat it like a case. A supernatural, surreal, case that apparently the universe was dependent on, but a case, nonetheless.

"If the Presence created your Father, what makes him so sure it has ill intentions?" Chloe spoke as Lucifer returned with a bottle of whiskey under one arm, wine under the other, and his hands full with glasses.

He smirked, proud of his Detective for continuing to brave through the situation. "Well, it DID create my Father," Lucifer poured her some wine, "who cast his very own son to Hell," he flourished his hands out, "forgive me if I don't see the vast possibility for evil."

Michael lifted the glass of whiskey poured for him, sniffed it curiously, and took a sip.

"That particular act he had little choice in, brother," Michael stared off as sadness grasped his eyes.

"So! What if it poses no threat at all! This is pointless, brother!" Lucifer was now sitting at the top end of the L, his brothers at the far end.

"Lucifer," Michael looked quickly at Chloe and put his eyes down, "what if it does." The sadness led his eyes away to an empty space. A loneliness filled him as it often did when confined to his chambers. He took a gulp this time and continued his story.

***

_"Omniscience isn't always pleasant."_

_"I'm limited to my realm and that what I was created to be, but what if I created a being with desires and wants, far beyond my own?" His Father moved and lifted a pawn, cupping it within both hands, he shut his eyes for pause. "What he might experience I could not prevent, but it would force him to evolve." He placed the pawn down. "He would have the capability of being greater than I. For are we not but a summation of our experiences?"_

_He sighed deeply. "Sometimes we must sacrifice what we love most to free it." He moved a second pawn beside it._

***

A heat seared across the room, everyone coming back to present to avoid it. It flashed quickly, too fast to burn. His wings had appeared as Lucifer stood, defiantly, letting the blue dots trace again, weaponizing the primaries. "His bloody pawns, always! We are nothing but his pawns!"

The wings lifted, arching at a 60 degree angle above the couch as he clenched his fist and leaned forward. "My creation. My suffering. His choice. His making." He heaved and the lights flickered much like they did upon Michael's first arrival. His twin tried desperately to pull him down but could only achieve small jerks before shadows of darkness appeared on the floor once again, the tips beginning to slowly lift.

"Lucifer!" Chloe lifted her feet off the floor in utter fear. "Lucifer!" Michael released his wings and enveloped his brother, tightly suffering the surges once again, and wincing with his head tucked tightly into Lucifer's shoulder.

***

The lights were randomly fixed, the penthouse back in place and Raphael was walking away when Chloe finally came to.

"I'm sorry, Detective." Lucifer had tucked his wings away and had placed Michael between them. He sat now in the corner of the L and Michael in the middle while Lucifer fiddled with his onyx ring, facing downward.

Furious, Chloe stood up, "No! Lucifer, no!" She didn't care he was the Devil, the Second, or about the Presence, God, the.. Whatever! And… "and just" she gestured wildly at Michael and Raphael "that!" They looked between each other, not understanding. "The sticky finger doctor, the twin who helped send his brother to Hell and the Devil with more issues than Time magazine!" They gasped and she huffed, "just NO!"

Lucifer kept his face focusing on the floor between his feet as she picked up her bag on the way to the elevator. He'd just been buying time since she saw his face, he knew. This moment was inevitable and he didn't want to see it, much less have every part of his being sense it. Know it.

Michael yanked his lifeless shoulder and gently guided his face to his. The now silver tint of Michael's eyes was haunting. Lucifer had suffered, but so had his brother. They had both changed.

Lucifer jerked up, "Please! Detective." He appeared suddenly as she hit the button to the lift. "Please." He outright begged. "It was a mistake, but you have my word…" He lifted his head to face her and he opened his eyes. They were engulfed in the white light of his Father but ignited with hellfire. Both braiding together to form a core of white with brilliant sparks of blue fire that coerced flames of orange, yellow and red along its trail. "Chloe," he turned to look away, but her hand was quick rise to his chin, stopping him, "I'm trying to change." He blinked again and his eyes settled into the same dark almond she'd grown accustomed to.

***  
Chloe went into detective mode. Regardless of her feelings, there was still a universe-wide problem that needed to be solved and she didn't want to leave those three to figure it out. Raphael eyed her suspiciously, pulling his instruments and book closer to him as she stood up. She shook her head. "Look we need to think about this."

"Lucifer, we'll need some pens, paper," she paced by the bar, index finger on chin and lost in thought. "G.." she stopped herself and spun on her heel, "um… , I wish we had a whiteboard." Her thoughts paused just in time to notice pens and paper on the coffee table, a whiteboard setup behind the sofa.

They all turned to see the glow in Lucifer's eyes retreating. Raphael quickly rose. "No!" She pointed at him and shook her finger side to side. Admonished, he returned to his microscope as Lucifer softly smiled and sauntered over to take his usual job at drawing on the whiteboard.

***

They had various sheets of paper across the coffee table, over food, floor, planning out various scenarios.

The white board was divided in three rows: the top featuring 3 curly haired, stick figures with wings, large gates behind them. Behind the gates, a hairless stick figure with a cane in hand.

The second row featured one square headed stick figure, one with large glasses and one definitely smaller than the other two. One was running toward them, long hair and arms out. Two winged figures were to the side, one bald and one with a medical cross for a chest.

Only two figures made it to the last row, both winged. One with sword in hand, one with horns and sparks around his lines.

"Then the plan is set! The best plane to meet the Presence at is in Hell! Amenadiel and Raphael will guard Earth. The host of heaven have the Silver City and dad. Michael and I." He looked to his brother, who straightened and nodded, his role long carved out for him. "Hell."

Lucifer's head snapped right, the glow returning, knowing. "It's best we leave now. It'll be arriving in hell soon."

Chloe stepped forward, grasping the back of Lucifer's head to make their right temples meet. The perfect distance for a whisper. "I'll be waiting for you."

Lucifer straightened, trying to appear unaffected before his brothers.

"To Hell, brother." He paused and looked at Michael head to toe and giggled, "though I think it might be wise to take someone with us who might help."

His wings spread and he quickly added, "Oh, and someone should tell Amenadiel!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the visit to Hell and a couple more realizations between the twins about their creation.


	10. Duality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and company descend to find what has become of Hell and attempt to stop the Presence before it reeks more havoc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this planned for 10 chapters and I apologize for the delay in this one, but I really felt it is best to divide this chapter and then add another. I will wrap this one up in 11. Thanks for patience and love to hear your comments!

Charcoal clouds of ash created a barrier above hell that never existed before. Tufts of clouds rolled over the layers beneath it, its shapes moving and twitching like the biceps of giants, climbing on the dead beneath them. The giant clouds moved furiously, fueled by what sounded like the constant crumble of buildings. Dust lifted, new clouds formed, the cycle relentless and making it very difficult for Michael to see. He continued to fly, panicked, but not afraid. Lucifer zipped by him, kicking up his right heel into the palm of Michael's hand for him to grab onto as he led the way.  
  
Lucifer landed inside the gates of hell, releasing Maze onto the ground as Michael landed immediately after. The cuts and bruises across Maze's face were already fading from her encounter with Cain's goons, but Michael's left cheek showed fresh cuts. Maze looked at them, proud.  
  
Lucifer dusted his suit off, his eyes and wings open and glowing as he surveyed the land around them. Rock pillars and walls, buildings and cavernous corridors that once lead a path to the gates had all been decimated, reduced to gravel. They gathered to form the numerous piles of rock occupying the land directly in front of them.   
  
To the right, small creatures, about knee high and bald without eyes or nose, scurried across the ground, letting their hands drag through the rubble, feeling about. Their skin was pale, and wet looking, revealing their purplish veins beneath. Their mouth's stayed open with peaks of sharp teeth spiraling toward the center. The sucked the dry air in, breathing, tasting, aimless leeches walking the land.   
  
Surprisingly, to their left arose from the rubble a small batch of trees, their leaves purple with hints of silver emitting a slight light upon patches of curled grass beneath it. A tiny stream of water ran between the trees, spreading across the rubble. The source seemed to be a spring, not far from the trees, where smaller saplings had already begun to grow. Lucifer, curious, made his way over to the trees, reaching up to touch a leaf.  
  
"Brother, its design, its beauty…" he let his voice trail off. What if he destroyed this being, this creator of creators, only to discover it wasn't truly evil, after all? It had to have benevolence to create something as artful as these trees, to grandfather the glory of angels and well, humanity. The glow in his eyes began to dim as his mind grew more and more conflicted.  
  
Deep in the branch where his fingers still played with the glistening leaves, two small lights, one silver and one gold, dared to bounce down along the leaves before stopping to dance in the palm of his hand. He let the glow in his eyes return, the corner of his mouth slightly lifting as he watched them play. They appeared almost identical to the three he'd left behind in the Silver City. Their energy innocent and uncontrolled.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as he sensed the movement of one of the leeching creatures, leaping from the top of a heap of gravel to launch itself at Maze. She caught it by its neck, midair, keeping its teeth as far from her. Its white skin paled to a sullen grey as she sliced slowly across its abdomen, enjoying her first kill in what seemed like eons. Its entrails seeped, but it continued to bite until Maze lifted the knife to separate its head from body. It dropped lifelessly.  
  
Michael grimaced and gestured at it, blood flowing into the tiny stream. "Its creation, too." He kicked it out of the batch of trees as Maze turned to look for more. "Disgusting, vile, vicious." Michael continued, " it creates without responsibility." He pointed his chin toward the edge of the trees where the creatures were promptly uprooting fresh saplings.   
  
Lucifer felt a warm buzz along the arch of each his wings. The stars had taken refuge in his light, hiding from the creatures. The Presence didn't care enough for his new creations, leaving them abandoned to suffer at the hand of its other grand ideas.   
  
"Maze," he called her attention, "welcome home." They hadn't discussed her betrayal, his previous refusal to bring her, the knife in Cain's hand. This was war in a land they called home for eons, where they'd formed a bond, a trust, and where they'd held the highest positions for eons.   
  
"My Lord," she responded firmly. Lucifer let his eyes flare as she let the blade run fresh blood across her tongue before retreating to the back flank, safe from the oncoming light.  
  
Lucifer took lead position, Michael only slightly behind him. Lucifer looked at the arch of each of his wings, quietly allowing the small stars to stay as he breathed deeply, feeling, knowing. "We must hurry."  
  
***  
  
Lucifer walked celestially fast, freely releasing his energy for the first time to form a directed half circle in front of him, clearing all before its wake. It radiated steady in conjunction with his every breath, the energy spreading with each exhale and then returning on inhale. He was a fog light for Michael and Maze, clearing the dust of his own destruction. Every now and then the stars hummed at from under the feathers of his wings, a warning that caused his primaries to loosen their sharp edges a bit, to feel and detect some patches of good in the vast array of chaos. He'd loosen his energy slightly in an attempt to preserve the good while Maze closed in on the evil that escaped, flaying her knives in ecstasy.  
  
This continued for what seemed an endless amount of time. Lucifer clearing area, Michael wielding his sword and Maze at fierce battle behind them to not leave them taken by surprise.  
  
Slowly, the hellhounds took rank behind Maze, clearing the field they left in their wake. They trotted besides Maze with heads as high as her own, fur matted with blood, slobber and ash. They resembled large black bears, except for their very square, very wide jawline.   
  
The strongest, Sigaa sniffed Maze repeatedly and held closely to her right side, their bond similar to that she and Lucifer descended with.   
  
Lucifer, knowing, felt for The Presence. Without care or concern, it was creating much faster than they could attack. Their exhaustion was creeping in and he stopped to take survey of the land again. Souls who'd suffered eons, ran freely amongst the decimated cells, trying to escape demons and unknown creatures. The land laid barren but for the random spots of good creation the two little sparks hummed for.  
  
Sigaa, seated by Maze eyed him suspiciously, as Lucifer briefly let his glow subside. "My loyal boy. Come here," he looked around hastily for a reward and nonchalantly ripped a foot off a nearby corpse and held it out for him. "How would we ever imagine a battle without you? Nooooo."   
  
Sigga recognized his King's voice, his smell, different, but still his King all the same. He rushed to his side, throwing himself into a nearby heap of gravel so as not to mess his Master's suit by crashing into him. Lucifer chuckled as he threw the prize on the floor before him. Maze followed suit, picking what she could from the shadows, ripping it and throwing the well-earned rewards to the dozen or so hounds behind her. Michael eyed the floors, disgusted and horrified of what his brother had learned to endure.  
  
Lucifer reached and lifted Michael's chin so he could look him in the eyes. Lucifer reached to pet Sigaa softly. "We are exhausting ourselves uselessly, brother." He sent the dog back to Maze where she collected the hounds behind her. "We must rethink our approach." He smiled as he turned to look at the arch of his wing on left, then right, and back again to Michael, "We must create, together. Again."  
  
***  
  
Lucifer faced the turmoil before him. Large beings flew above them, shaped like flies with a small heads hanging off bodies, 3 bulbar eyes shifting in constant rotation from front to side to back. They hovered and once they focused and gathered, the stomping of a herd on the ground could be felt coming nearer. A herd of what, they did not know, but it had obviously joined with the flying creatures above them, whose focus was now on them.  
  
Michael looked up at them, weary of the horrors. Lucifer stepped forward in position and looked to his right. "Come brother." He gestured for Michael to close the few inches that he held behind him before. Michael sighed and stepped forward.   
  
Michael steadied himself, puffed out his chest and lifted his hand, focusing on the lands before him. He zeroed his thoughts in on objects, materials and suddenly, leaves began ripping from nearby dead trees, wet branches and dried vines flying for close and far distances, joining to form a large mass that hovered over just above them. Michael held the storm of debris over them and then looked over to his brother.  
  
Lucifer looked above at the mass, then the Hellish drones and began to weave the branches, vines and leaves into a large web, protecting them from above. The net kept steady over them as his mind focused on the stomp of the herd coming toward them. He looked back at Michael.  
  
Michael took a deep breath and lifted his arms once again. His mind reached for discarded demon blades, corpses of dead demons, creatures and hellhounds alike. His arms lifted higher as he reached for lava from the Lake of Fire and the eyes of drone flies past fallen. He looked at the gory mass above him and looked away, disgusted with himself.  
  
Lucifer looked up at the display, quite pleased. "Creative, brother!" He squealed in excitement before looking over to Michael, his mood quickly extinguished by the sullen look on his twin.   
  
He began to work quickly. The corpses quickly began to take the shape of an arachnid, the thick hellhound fur coating the back end and demon skin the front. Armor and bones from demons and unknown creatures began to form the eight legs. Staying true to his Father's design, he lined their heads with eight eyes, but made them rotate around their head similar to the dead flies they were pulled from. Finally, he rounded the demon blades, forming each into fangs and infused them with lava for venom.   
  
He looked over at Michael and placed the creature on the web, the only barrier separating them from the flying creatures. It quickly skipped across the web, shooting venom, jumping and catching the flies. Lucifer smiled back at Michael. His brother gasped, taken aback by the creature and its efficiency and hurried to quickly gather more leaves, branches and vines as Lucifer seamlessly extended the web.   
  
Lucifer tilted the web, turning it from a ceiling to a slanted wall before them. The Spider took the escape down the ramp as Michael and Lucifer continued creating. The screams of the unknown army could be heard from the distance.  
  
The hellhounds closed ranks and howled deeply behind them. Michael turned to look at Maze as the hounds eagerly dragged more corpses and dead flies to Michael. The largest of the hounds laid their own dead before his feet and postured, proud at their offering. Maze, all too pleased, smirked wickedly. "Welcome to Hell, angel."   
  
***  
  
They picked up their pace, the web extending far beyond their sight to the left and to the right. In front of them, Lucifer and Michael had managed to create an army of what was over a hundred of their spiders. They climbed up and down the slanted web, launching themselves into the air and landing on their prey in surprise. Shrieks of horror and the smell of burning flesh surrounded them.  
  
They walked unharmed and unchallenged, except for the rare attempt at the rear, which the Maze was always quick to gut, slice and leave for the hounds to deliver to Michael.   
  
Lucifer led them past the Valley of Bottomless Pits and through the Succubus Forest, over the Bridge of Nowhere, before he stopped suddenly.   
  
The spiders retreated from the field of battle, Lucifer's half circle of energy closing in just behind them as they mounted the web, lining into formation. Lucifer withheld his power and stood, silent.  
  
"What, brother?" Michael surveyed the land before him but could not understand why Lucifer had suddenly stopped. He focused, listening and noticed the sounds of battle were moving away from them, not toward them.   
  
A guttural roar unleashed from the dust, shouts in another language lifted above the battle, leading the next charge. Maze joined the tail end of the shout, raising her knives above her head. Lucifer looked back at her, the corner of one side of his mouth slightly lifted.  
  
"The war cry of the Lilim, brother." He looked up at the spiders, reconsidering how he wanted to continue this battle. "It looks like we might have more allies." He broadened his shoulders and for the first time, let his brother see his hellish form. Red scars lifted across his skin, black smoldering trenches and bright red peelings marred his flesh. The now-blue hellfire flashed fiercely, nearly over taking the white glow. His voice deepened as he let out his own roar, "Return to your King!"  
  
***  
  
Ohalat, one of Maze's oldest sisters, was commanding the siege. Covered in soot and blood, she appeared before Lucifer immediately after his call. Taken back by the raging blue fire in his eyes, she took a knee before him, raised her hands and crossed them at the wrist with blades in each. She bowed. "My Lord."  
  
She wore skin tight leather leggings and long sleeved top. Her knee-high boots, gauntlets, high raised collar and bodice served as armor, covered with shimmering scales, all various shades of green. The rest of the Lilim quietly closed order behind her, each kneeling, raising hands and bowing as she did.  
  
"Stand and report." Lucifer commanded. Ohalat stood quickly, dropping her hands to her sides, but not lifting her head.  
  
"My King, there is another being present. We, the Lilim, are loyal to our King!" Her voice rose. "We will not allow Hell to be desecrated by this false God!" She pounded her fist to her chest. "We have it cornered, but it is powerful. Our attack began just a short time ago after seeing those spider creatures gain traction." Her tone changed. "In that time, we have lost one third of the Lilim." She shook her head, her embarrassment in their performance evident.  
  
"Divide your command and take left and right flank behind us." Lucifer gestured to each side. He had to act quickly, the Presence starting to move toward them. "We will fight together once again."   
  
Ohalat did as commanded, directing an order to her second in command to take the left. She lifted her blades, swirling them with a hiss before Michael's face as she headed to the right. Michael kept his eyes forward, ignoring the demon. Maze snorted at the display.

Lucifer left his devil visage in place as he breathed out another half circle of light, feeling The Presence cornered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any errors. I welcome any critique. Hope you are enjoying it!


End file.
